


Little Baby Gem

by TheGoldenShadow



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Human Culture Confusion, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27513394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGoldenShadow/pseuds/TheGoldenShadow
Summary: After a tourist calls Peridot a baby, she decides to research what that actually means. She isn't happy about what she finds.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Little Baby Gem

“B…”

Context is very important to human social interaction.

“Then A. An E _could_ come next. ‘Baseball’ features an E for the express purpose of achieving a smoother delivery…” But the ending of a word also changes how the prior phonetic values are delivered. I suspect it ends in a Y, which would result in a smoother delivery regardless. “No E. B…”

Their lexicon is inefficiently bloated, filled with a multitude of duplicate words consisting of the same spelling, phonetic value, or even multiple variations on both aspects… yet with entirely different meanings and social connotations applied to each one.

Navigating an entire language constructed with this nonsense in mind makes humans difficult to understand. Even more so with the added complication of emotional cues and the fact that not all humans display the appropriate emotions for any given situation. Some purposely hide said emotions, which seems entirely counterproductive to successful socialization.

“Y.”

Baby. Search.

As confirmation of my ability to decipher human language, the search engine results display a definition of said word, spelling entirely correct. As expected.

**Baby**

_noun_

noun: **baby** ; plural noun: **babies**

Also as expected, multiple meanings are presented for said word. More work, but nothing my intellect cannot handle given ample enough research and time. If I want to find out the meaning behind the comment the female made to me, I shall have to pursue an answer myself.

Definition one: a very young child.

Example: his wife has just had a baby.

Conclusion: unlikely. I am a not a human infant, therefor it is unlikely the female was referring to me as such. It would be a rather crude insult to my intelligence.

Definition two, _informal_ : a lover or spouse (often as a form of address).

Example: my baby left me for another guy.

Conclusion: unlikely. It is highly presumptive of her to assume that we are in a romantic relationship. Not only have we never met before, there have been no social or known life events that in any way imply our ship is a viable one. Shipping requires prior interaction or known personality values to calculate, and more than one of each is often required to make an accurate deduction. It would be awfully presumptive of her to assume we are a viable ship.

Definition three, _informal_ : comparatively small or immature of its kind.

Example: a baby version of the Oxford Movement.

Conclusion: unlikely. I matured for the appropriate amount of time as is expected for a standard Peridot. My stature is also standard for the average Peridot. We are intelligence operatives. Size is not relative to our primary function. Nor does size correlate in any way to my recently discovered ferrokinesis.

Definition four, _informal_ : treat (someone) as a baby; pamper or be overprotective towards.

Example: her aunt babied her and fussed over her clothes.

Conclusion: unlikely. The female did nothing to provide any added protection against potential threats, nor did she pamper me in any suitable fashion. Connie has informed me of the ‘spa’ in which she ventured to with her mother unit. No such activities mentioned in her report occurred.

… Which means none of them are viable answers to my question.

How… frustrating. This can’t be correct. Surely?

It is certainly possible that this human has a particular vernacular suited to her own personal social groups, but it makes little sense for the her to address me with such language. Language revolves around mutual comprehension and making any sort of metaphorical comment is useless without the appropriate context to go with it.

Nothing I’ve read here applies to me. And I was so sure I was getting better at human social customs.

On closer inspection, there is an option to see further information, including more definitions, translations and the origins of the word.

I tap.

Not that it helps. The origin of the word is relatively archaic – by human standards, at any rate – and does nothing to change the modern interpretation of the word itself. Many of the other definitions are just slight variations on those previously stated, rendering the whole display a pointless muddle of words that _should all mean the same thing if humans were intelligent enough to–_

Then one catches my eye, layered in between a few of the original definitions. Why they don’t just display all meanings from the get-go is utterly beyond me.

Definition five, _informal_ : a timid or childish person.

Example: Don’t be such a baby!

Conclusion: possible?

The word _childish_ hits me the most. The meaning is somewhat familiar. It denotes childlike behavior from otherwise matured humans.

Matured.

_Of course!_ The human is ignorant. She was judging me by human standards, not gem standards. With that in mind, she was not relating my maturity to my time in the ground; she was relating it to her own standards.

Which…

Which meant she considered me… a child?

A human child?

That can’t be right. I am _sufficiently_ aged. By human standards, I am considered a genius, according to both Steven and Pearl. And my manner is most suited to an adult; I do not wander around with sticky foodstuffs on my face, or in so called ‘diapers’. My appearance is not that of a baby, or a child.

I am magnificent.

I might be short on average if the size of every possible gem mutation is taken into account, the Diamonds notwithstanding, and I may not be the perfect example of a subservient Peridot since my arrival to Earth. But I can control metal. I have _friends_ and a home and a place where I can enjoy myself.

I’m not childlike. I’m not. I’m…

“I’m not… right?”

This random human assumed I was. She had interacted with me for only several seconds, possibly viewing my mannerisms for a few minutes’ prior, given how quickly humans wander around the boardwalk. Her instincts likely took note of my appearance the moment she saw me, potentially unconsciously.

She had assumed I was childish.

… Had she assumed I was a literal human child?

Conclusion: very likely…

As with all moments of confusion, I begin with research. For all I claim humans to have little technological understanding, they are on the cusp of the beginning of something greater. The first step of many is their internet. Relatively speaking, it is fairly basic compared to any database that Homeworld utilizes, requiring multiple steps to even view a single episode of Camp Pining Hearts on approved streaming sites.

Yet, it is still a library of every major idea and notion that humans have ever had. Fiction, recreation, biology.

Lots of biology.

It contains philosophy and social information. There are a multitude of human social cliques within Beach City alone, and with my tablet I have access to information on all of them.

I don’t have the time to scour every social norm on the planet, however. I need basic information for this location. General mannerisms and identifiers that will proclaim me, the Wonderful Peridot, as a mature sapient entity among my human peers.

Logically, I spend hours scouring encyclopedia databases on the topic. I ask the search engines and I research into fictional representations of maturity. Such characters need to appeal to a wide audience so therefor have a high chance of being a useful template.

I rewatch Camp Pining Hearts after said research to view several characters in their natural habitat.

With my new insight, I notice that characters are indeed treated differently based upon their presented maturity. Those seen as immature or looked down upon, it seems. Treated as if they are literally children, despite the obvious biological differences in place.

A character with less pronounced shapes on their body is also ridiculed at one point. I had never understood this. I had assumed it was some irrelevant plot point in their relationship that would be brought up in a later season, in an attempt to cohesively pull the narrative together. But with maturity and its relevance to most humans in mind, the interaction now makes sense; she was being viewed as a child due to her physiology resembling that of a child, despite her otherwise calm demeanor.

Yet, other instances reverse this, making characters out to be immature despite their very obvious adult features. It seems having only one of these traits is enough to warrant the label of immature.

And I exhibit both… Not an ideal outcome.

… Though maybe the humans aren’t the creatures I should be focused on.

The Crystal Gems have been on Earth longer than modern human civilization has been present, therefor it is not unusual to think that both have influenced each other over time.

The modern mature human is _serious_. Down to business. They are no nonsense negotiators, willing to stand their ground and only take their eyes off the prize on scheduled occasions.

Like Garnet.

The modern mature human is _elegant._ They are graceful and poised. They can maneuver themselves through a social interaction with ease, emitting style and grace with each movement of their body.

Like Pearl.

The modern mature human is _curvy_. As much as they vary in height, the grand majority of humans feature muscles and fat deposits in various locations around the bodies. While not particularly relevant to the any brand of gem, most humans equate us to females. They come in especially curvy mutations.

Like Amethyst.

The modern mature human consumes food to stay alive.

Like Steven.

Steven is a potential outlier in the data. But having been around humans and gems his whole life, it is likely he has come under the same influence as everyone else over time. Steven is also curved in shape, though his age renders him exempt from the various implications of being referred to as a child. Many human cultures still view him as one. His basic social etiquette is worth adopting, though his personality might not improve my own position. I always thought we had things in common, which may prove to be my downfall.

There are exceptions to the rules, however. Despite being rather straight in appearance, Pearl is still considered mature due to her height and grace. Despite being short, Amethyst has enough curves and bouncy shapes to countermeasure it.

Whereas Garnet exhibits unreachable aesthetical and maturity standards.

She is the very image of a human adult, being both tall, the correct shape, and the leader of a group of varied individuals.

Her emotional cues are also quite subtle and otherwise absent for much of the time. Humans call this ‘mysterious’. This is also a trait that often overlaps with maturity in their culture.

Garnet.

Garnet was the answer… but even I can’t mimic everything. I certainly can’t manage the height without limb enhancers. And a pair of buckets and household appliances likely won’t raise my metaphorical standing among the humans. Some alterations are required in that regard.

But everything else?

That I can work with.

*******

Thirty feet tall.

Eighteen tons of pure ingenuity and steel.

Green paintjob.

It’s perfect!

Looking down on Beach City through the glass is almost intoxicating. The moon casts a foreboding shadow over the crowded pier as humans wander across the wooden surface like the little eusocial insects that they are. The feet of my mech are wide and large, though precisely crafted to fit through the busy streets.

Humans and gems alike desperately stroke at the hydraulic ankles, jealous of my almighty creation. Others hug the arms, utterly titillated at the prospect of being so close to so awesome a robot.

“Yes, yes. I know. It’s amazing,” I say, humble.

Those on the boardwalk finally take notice of my great machine, their aimless toing and froing coming to an abrupt stop as they gaze up to the sky, the moon surely a ritualistic halo behind my very being.

As I raise my arms, so to do the arms of my creation. “Who’s a baby now, humans?!”

The crowd cheers my name, as they rightly should. That female from the other day must surely see her place, now. No child would be able to accomplish what I can. I have centuries over even their oldest.

“Aren’t you just the smartest little girl?”

Of course; I’m the smartest. Besides perhaps Pearl, there is little competition on this planet when it comes to intellect.

I pump my fists in the air, the mech mimicking my every movement.

“And so cute in your little bowtie.”

I’m adorable.

My fist come back, a toy in the grip. A primitive little noisemaker made from cheap plastics in primary colors. I shake it, rattling the particles trapped inside.

I turn the mech to see the woman from the peer. She towers into the sky, the moon a mere coin to her full form. She bends down to me, her chin level with the buildings as her body bends forward, far too sharply to be anatomically correct.

The stars blink out, one by one.

“Aren’t you just the smartest little girl?” she repeats.

“I am not a little girl!” I throw the rattle, missing her head completely despite the short distance between us. It rests waiting in my other hand.

“And so cute in your little bowtie.”

My bowtie is large, too oversized for my body. It sits around my neck, yet it is bigger than me. Twice the size. Maybe three.

“Aww, hello baby.”

Shut up.

_Shut up!_

I punch out at her, forgoing any form of infantile projectile. There is no mech. My chair remains, tight straps holding me in place. The world is moving forwards as rubber edged wheels roll beneath me.

I can’t move.

I turn my head back, seeing Garnet with her hands on the handlebars of the infant stroller. She’s smiling, her teeth large and visible.

“Isn’t she just the cutest?” she says.

“Aren’t you just the smartest little girl?”

I’m moving, but the woman doesn’t need to. The boardwalk stretches onto an empty horizon, and her face extends along the entirety. Her eyes are impossibly wide, filled with advanced cameras and recording equipment as faceless humans stand with their communication devices.

“Aww, hello baby,” they all say in unison, their phones and tablets emulating a distinct one note sounds. The sky is bright, made from pictures and fresh recordings.

The moon orbits me, the face of the horrid female carved roughly into the surface. She is brighter than me, shining light into my face so that everyone might see me with the most optimum lighting conditions.

Her voice is guttering. It gurgles with liquid magma. “Aren’t you just the smartest little girl?”

Dark liquids drip from her mouth, landing on the bib tied around my neck. It’s lands in messy splashes and stains the fabric in orange and brown. Specks of harvest rice and pancakes stick to the surface.

“Aww, hello baby.”

I throw my bottle of synthetic lactation fluid onto the ground. There was never a rattle. “I am not a baby!”

“I think someone needs their diaper changed!”

The mech picks me up by the waist, smiling at me without a face. It speaks with a voice I can’t remember from Camp Pining Hearts. A mother, or an aunt. Someone unimportant.

A disposable diaper wraps itself around my waist, it’s opening a slithering reptile ready to swallow my gem whole. Teeth made from torn paper clamp into my body.

The noisemaker shakes somewhere in the distance. Joined by another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another until thunder breaks the sky.

“I am not a baby!”

I’m crying, wailing into the storm. It sounds fake to my ears, like an untrained animal vying for attention. Like a child trying to get what it wants.

Garnet continues to push me in the stroller. “Isn’t she just the cutest?”

The moon spins around me at one point zero zero two kilometers a second. “Aren’t you the smartest little girl?”

The mech holds me in its arms.

“I think someone needs their diaper changed!”

Garnet pushes me. “Isn’t she just the cutest bowtie?”

“And so cute in your little baby hello baby.”

“I think baby needs their diaper changed.”

“Isn’t she just the baby?”

“The cutest baby,” every voice says.

“Just the smartest, cutest baby,” the sky roars, wordless and crafted from a billion billion rattling toys. “Cutest baby. Baby. Baby.”

“Shut up!”

“Baby”

_Shut up!_

Baby.

Baby.

_No–_

Baby. Baby.

Baby.

I need out. I need out of this stroller.

The straps are tight, pulling me down into a swallowing void. I can’t move.

I can’t breathe. I don’t need to breathe, but the desperation is there. I need to breathe!

_Baby!_

Shut up!

I shift, I pull. _I pull._

I pull.

I fall.

I’m on the floor of the barn, my face pressed into the softwood that is very inappropriately named as such.

The barn is relatively quiet, spare for the twittering of early morning birds resting in the trees outside.

“… Whuh?”

I remove my glasses and rub the heel of my wrist into my eyes. It does nothing for me, but most characters in fiction seem to do so after waking up. I assume it can only be a part of the reawakening process.

Steven once told me that sleeping was like going somewhere else for a while. You just close your eyes and let your body take care of itself whilst you take a well-deserved break.

It had seemed like a such a good idea, either two hours or twenty-six hours ago, judging by the dawning light from outside the barn doors.

Never. Again.

If anything, it has shown me several good reasons to avoid sleeping entirely. Putting thoughts out of my mind being a primary example. It only delays the inevitable, and it’s apparently up to a random number generator as to whether it will be a positive stall of time or not.

A stall of time with buggy interface that seems to have no sense of a decent cause or effect system.

I don’t even get tired, or anything close to a reliable comparison. But humans, mature humans, are not known to be jittery or inaccurate. They are known to be collected and awake. Gems are always awake. My manner after hours of studying up on the correct social etiquette of maturity, not so much.

Again, sleeping off to somewhere else had seemed like a very good idea at the time. In theory, it should only be a positive.

In reality, it has only made me feel worse about the prospects of being called a baby, and all the connotations that entails.

But no less confident about my plan.

Only more confident that I must go through with it.

*******

A small bell rings out with a high-pitched tingle above me as I push the door open. The floor is freshly cleaned, and my shoes tap loudly on the surface as I make my way to the counter.

My steps are even. My hands are comfortably behind my back.

Showtime.

“Good afternoon to you, Miss Sadie Miller.”

Ever the mature professional, Sadie Miller stands confident at her workstation. At first. The welcome smile she presented upon my entrance is now replaced by something less sure, however.

But it is no matter. For I am Peridot.

Mature.

Graceful.

Polite.

“U-Uh, hi?” She meekly waves at me. Her confidence spills back as she leans forward on the counter, likely to get a better look at my very mature, very fine suit.

Black trim, pristine white shirt beneath. Shoes that vaguely fit my feet that were neither designed nor suited to wearing human shoes. My green bowtie, ever the product of ridicule from that very rude human sits around my neck and finishing the ‘look’ I spent hours achieving.

Mature. Graceful. Polite.

_Peridot._

Peridot, who can be mature. Peridot who can order food from a human establishment in a mature and dignified manner.

Sadie straightens up, her smile growing. “I mean, hi! Welcome to the Big Donut.”

“Your welcome is most greatly appreciated, Sadie Miller.”

Her full name seems to bring about a less confident reaction. Perhaps I am not using it in the right context. “Um… you’re welcome. Again!” she adds with a breathy giggle. “I’m not sure I’ve met you before.”

“I am Facet-2F5L Cut-5XG. Peridot Facet-2F5L Cut-5XG.”

Sadie does not respond as immediately to my introduction as I had expected her to. But respond she does. “Nice to meet you Facet two… five–“

“Peridot will suffice. As everyone calls me Peridot, it is only polite that I inform you that you can do the same.”

Once more, her reaction is not as expected. A silence clings to the store and I am left wondering if interacting with humans has always been this hard, and how they managed to navigate this asteroid field on a daily basis. In every social interaction. For the entirety of their short lives.

I decide to take the lead in the conversation. “I would like to request one of your donuts.”

Business talk brings her back once again. “That’s what we’re here for! What can I getcha?”

The display counter holds a decent variety of donuts, though if their colors and shapes hold any logical meaning, I am not well versed enough in human culture to identify them. Many are named incongruously, seemingly add random whilst other are named after other foodstuffs entirely.

Why do some have holes in the middle?

Is that one meant to be folded in half?

Does she realize that some of them are covered in multi-colored specks of dirt?

“U-Uh…” What do I choose? What’s the difference? What’s banana?! “I would… like…”

“I can give you a suggestion, if you want?”

Yes! “I would be most grateful for your assistance.”

It does absolutely nothing to help.

She describes flavors and compares the various donuts to other foods, none of which I have ever heard of. She describes texture and complimentary drinks – why would you mix the donut in a liquid? Was it not required to be solid? – among other details that are supposedly there to assist me.

At some point she stopped talking and I find myself back at the beginning again. Staring at these things that humans have made with no inkling as to how I am meant to choose one.

“I can give you a box of three with a few of the more popular ones,” she then suggests, her smile gentle. “It comes with a little menu you can look over at home.”

Saved.

Oh, thank the stars, I’m saved. “I-Indeed,” I reply, perhaps too quickly. “A selection of your finest wares.” And, for added politeness: “Please.”

She proceeds to collect my purchase. A seemingly random selection of three are collected and placed in a small box with a viewing window. It is branded with the same symbols as those marking the building outside.

“There ya go!” She places the box in question on the counter, sliding it slightly towards me. Three donuts are inside; one brown, one vaguely red, and one dirtied by the rainbow specks. “Is that everything?”

Yes.

Yes. Please, just let me leave.

“It is indeed all that I require.”

“That’ll be three dollars and seventy-five cents, please.”

“Ah! Yes, payment. Of course.”

I hand her my newly acquired credit card, just like I saw with Percy in season one, episode six.

Unlike season one, episode six, my card is not slid through any device, nor is it tapped against a small screen. Sadie holds it, rotating her wrist until she has a full view from every angle.

I vaguely recognize a tingling sound from behind me, but eye contact is very important. Mature lifeforms don’t get distracted.

“What’s… this?”

“It is my credit card.”

For all mature humans use credit cards.

Whether she’s sheepish, or apologetic, I’m not quite sure. I haven’t got the hang on human faces quite yet. But as it is noted by many humans that ‘the customer is always right’, and I am said customer, I can only imagine the mistake is on her part.

“This isn’t a real credit card.”

“… It’s not?”

Definitely apologetic. Or perhaps sad. Either way, I don’t like that look being aimed at me. “I’m afraid this is just a toy. It’s just a bit of plastic with a sticker on it.”

She hands it back and I give it a look over. It looks exactly like Percy’s credit card, save for the numbers in the front. The numbers are coincidentally in perfect numerical order, from zero to nine. I had wondered why a human would discard a card that supplies an infinite amount of currency.

“So… I can’t purchase donuts with this?”

A new voice joins us. “Just put it on my tab.”

I turn, and whatever is left of my cunning plan is broken into infinitesimally tiny pieces as Amethyst smiles back at me. 

“Hey Amethyst,” Sadie says, ignorant to my suffering. “I was going to suggest it, anyway. If it turned out you weren’t happy, I would just pay the difference.”

“Nah, you’re cool. Me and P go way back.”

“Y-Yes, quite. Amethyst and I are most definitely acquainted.”

“Uh, most definitely what now?” Amethyst asks, brow lowered.

I can’t even do it right when I do try. I couldn’t have researched the wrong social group. Mature humans wore suits, and those people in spying movie were all definitely wearing suits. Perhaps I should have also equipped a weapon…

I can only sigh and let my head fall forward. “Yeah, we’re friends.”

The transaction doesn’t take long. Some agreement in place requires that Amethyst only pay for her purchases at the end of the month, rather than on a case by case basis. If I had known that, I would have asked to set something up, and then maybe I would have discovered the true validity of my credit card before payment was due.

Even that was a toy. Likely made for child.

I’m led by Amethyst to a nearby bench. She carries her own box of donuts, one with twelve contained inside. Each is seemingly different, and was described as ‘the usual’, which only confirms that she knows what she’s doing.

It’s quiet for a moment, the air only filled with Amethyst chewing and swallowing whatever it is that a donut is made from. The plan had been to eat from one in the store – with my mouth closed – though admittedly I’m not sure how to properly accomplish said feat. I would likely have had to pick it out at a later point in time regardless of whether I managed to chew it up or not.

With two donuts down, and very much aware that I haven’t touched my own, Amethyst speaks up.

“What’s with the fancy getup?”

“It’s a free planet. I’m allowed to wear human clothes.”

“Well, yeah. But I didn’t tag you as a suit kind of girl, y’know?”

Here we go. This only further proved the point that the female was trying to drive home. “Because I’m too _childish_?” My tone comes out sharper than intended.

Amethyst doesn’t seem to know how to take this outburst, if it could even be called that. “So… you wore a suit because you think you’re childish?”

“I am childish! I’m a _baby_.” This was a stupid idea.

“If this is about the height thing, you really don’t need to worry about it. I’m short. Amethysts are _meant_ to be tall, and I’m short. It’s all good.”

“Yes, but you’re the correct shape.”

This time the confusion is evident. Her heads tilts ever so slightly. “Correct… shape?”

“Mature humans are tall, curved or both,” I explain, as if she doesn’t know already. “You are curved. Pearl is tall. Garnet is tall _and_ curved. You all look like older humans.”

“I’m not following you. Why does it bother you if you don’t look like a grown-up human?”

“Because she called me a baby!”

“Who?”

“The human female! At the boardwalk!”

Amethyst shifts closer to me, until our hips are touching. She smiles at me. “How about you tell me the whole story, then I’ll see if I can help. Deal?”

I do.

I explain meeting the woman on the boardwalk. I her initial interactions, her mannerisms. I explain how she spoke down to me, her tone and how she bent down to look me in the eye. Perhaps I’m using my research to back up some of her actions as hindsight, but that only makes them feel all the more painful.

It implies I was ignorant to the insults at the time. In a way, that’s worse than knowing when someone is being rude to your face. You only realize later that you were not well-versed enough to know that you were being insulted.

Which itself is really quite insulting.

At first, Amethyst listens intently, very much showing her status as a mature sapient creature. Her face holds something serious and for a moment it feels like I’m talking to someone like Garnet. Someone quiet and calm.

Then Amethyst laughs and destroys that vision entirely.

“Dude, humans call each other baby all the time.”

“I am aware. However,” I point out, “in the context of the conversion, she clearly calls me a baby because she thought I was a small child.”

“I don’t think she was trying to insult you. It sounds like she just thought you were cute.”

“But I don’t want to _be_ a cute little child. I’m a genius. I insulted a diamond to her face! I’m a wanted criminal!”

“Debatable.”

“I should look imposing and deep and smart and way more things that aren’t at all like a child.”

“You are those things though?”

“That doesn’t matter if they still think I’m childish.”

The air goes quiet, filled only with the drifting breeze of the open sea. I’m sure Steven or Lapis would have an apt metaphor for the situation. Something to do with the endless horizons or the deep darkness beneath the waves.

Or maybe something to do with the clouds. I never can tell with Steven.

I pull my knees up into my chest and hug them, somehow more secure in myself. I feel an arm drape comfortably over my shoulder.

“You’re allowed to be childish.”

“By human standards I’m an adult. Childish adults are looked down upon. Childish _gems_ are looked down upon.”

“Yeah, by boring standards.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Boring standards?”

She pulls a hand through her hair. “Look, do you like acting like you?”

“Obviously. Why else would I act that way?”

“Then keep doing you,” she says simply. “The stuffy gems are all on Homeworld. You don’t need to impress any of them.”

That was… true. The Diamonds likely already have a bounty on my gem. Thousands of soldiers scouring every inch of the galaxy to get me under control. And find the Crystal Gems, if they have some spare time.

There is little need to appease their societal standards. Their standards are pretty awful.

“Yes, but if I want humans to respect me, then I’m not going to get very far.”

“Why wouldn’t people respect you? Tons of people around town know you. Greg thought you were pretty cool after we told him about the robot you built.

“My improvised mech was quite impressive.”

“See? I bet if you asked a bunch of people who knew a little about you, they’d say something cool. Or scary, if you told them that you piloted the big spaceship that crashed into the beach.”

“They won’t respect me if you imply to them that _I_ was the one who crashed it.”

“Pearl has the blame for that one; you’re all good. If anything, they’d be more impressed if you were a kid. Humans have this weird thing about child geniuses.”

“But they _don’t_ think that. They treat me like an infant.”

“And you’re basing all of this on what one random tourist said?”

Of course.

“Yes!”

“A tourist who clearly doesn’t know what’s going on in the world if she doesn’t recognize a gem in the city most known for being a base of operations for gems?”

…

“Yes?”

“Peri, you don’t need to change who you are. And so what if Garnet and Pearl and me look older; we’re still plenty weird.”

My eyes narrow. “Weird how?”

“Pearl likes to collect weapons, and other human stuff inside her gem. I collect human stuff in a big pile of trash in my room.”

Just like Peridot.

Not the trash part. Garbage has a distasteful odor that interrupts any potential enjoyment I can get out of my collection of human artifacts.

“And Garnet is _responsible_. That’s it. Have you even met Ruby and Sapphire?”

Oh. “I have not.”

“Sapphire goes gaga whenever they’re left alone together, and Ruby is like a little nervous firework that can’t sit still for five minutes. Garnet’s two little idiots working together because they love each other. I wouldn’t compare yourself to that. You’re never gonna win.”

Ah, yes. Fusion. In all the thinking and research, I forgot about that. I suppose it doesn’t do good to compare myself to two gems working together. _Being_ together, like Percy and Pierre.

“I must admit that was a rather large oversight in my thinking.”

“See? And I love being immature. It’s where most of the fun human stuff is at.”

“I agree.” I pull at my collar, loosening my bowtie. “I don’t know how humans can wear these things. They’re so limiting.”

“Eh, the only humans that were suits are the ones that want to look important. You’re with us, so you’re pretty awesome as is.”

“You think I’m awesome?”

“Yeah! Of course, you’re awesome. I haven’t met anyone else who can build anything even close to what Pearl can do. And you did it so easily! You’re a bajillion times smarter than me! And you called Yellow Diamond a clod to her face That was pretty cool.”

“I am pretty cool, aren’t I?”

She pulls at my shoulders, leaning me in for a tight hug. “Yeah you are!” Before moving back and pulling out another donut from the box. “You wanna come back to the Temple and play some games? Steven got this new game called Brilliant Bash Sisters. You get to fight weird little monsters from all his other games and stuff.”

“… Do I have to keep wearing the suit?”

“You’re not getting in if you _are_ wearing the su–”

The suit is torn open before she even has the chance to finish. “I’m in!”


End file.
